The Harp
by Eponime
Summary: Blaine lives in a small, isolated town with some slightly strange traditions.When his dog runs away, Blaine discovers a lot more than his beloved furry friend. This story's also slightly strange, but I like it. It was one of the first proper stories I ever wrote. :


**I felt guilty about the fact that I hadn't even started on a new chapter yet, so I dug through some old stuff that I'd written, searching for anything that I could turn into Klaine. I found this (which doesn't have all _that _much Klaine), but I liked it.**

**I've only changed about 5% of the original text - just fixed up some grammar and made it fit. It's a bit cliched and not that well written, as well as being just plain strange, but I _did _write it when I was 11...**

**Anyway, I hope you like it! :)**

**The Harp**

He had been living there for as long as he could remember, and it had always been the same. The same dusty ground, the same dried up creek, the same endless ocean of green-brown eucalyptus trees. He and the other boys in the small, isolated town had explored every inch of the surrounding bush and played countless games of Cowboys and Indians. It had always been the same. That is, until Thunder ran away.

He had found Thunder as a puppy, abandoned and left to die. He had brought the whimpering, dripping bundle of saturated fur into the wooden shack, to shelter him from the first storm the small township had experienced in seven years. The tiny bundle of fluff had grown quickly into a leggy German Sheppard who always seemed to be tripping over his own feet. And running away.

-o-O-o-

Blaine was running, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his bare feet pounding on the stony, winding track. He leant against a tree to catch his breath and think. Thunder had never gone this far before; he had never gone up and over the hill. He knew that it was out of bounds. Blaine thought back over what had happened. He had just run off, one minute he was playing tug-of-war with Blaine and his friends, the next he had dropped the rope and was running up Jacob's Hill, for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Now that his heart had stopped pounding in his ears, Blaine could hear a rippling melody being played softly in the distance. It was so sweet, so beautiful, that he started running towards it. He had to get there; he had to find the source of the sound. Blaine could see sunlight up ahead and he ran faster. He reached it and slowed to a walk. The path ended and he found himself on a mossy green bank. Blaine stopped and stared in wonder.

Before him was a scene from his most beautiful dreams: a silver stream, cascading over perfectly formed stones… Trees with emerald-green leaves, reaching for the sky… The delicate fronds of ferns, trailing in the sparkling clear water… But his eyes were drawn to one thing only, a harp, covered in smooth silver leaf with shining gold strings. It was the most wondrous thing that Blaine had ever seen in his life. And it was the source of the music.

Blaine splashed across the stream towards it. He was getting soaked but he did not notice. He had to stroke the gleaming golden strings of the harp; he had to get closer to the breathtaking melody that was issuing from it. He reached out a hand to touch the smooth silver of the harp, and the music ceased. Blaine started to sob heartbrokenly, the found that he could not stop. It wasn't fair! Why did the music have to end? He lay down next to the harp and cried himself to sleep.

Blaine was woken by a huge, wet tongue licking his face,

" Thunder!" he cried, burying his face in thick, soft fur, " You came back!" Thunder licked the boy's nose in reply.

Blaine sat up and looked around. There was the dried up creek bed and the scraggly gum trees. There was no trace off the silver stream, or the harp with the golden strings. It was dark and far above him, he could see the full moon floating in a sapphire sea which was studded with pinpricks of light. With a shock he realized that it must be way after dinner,_ and_ it was the Night of the Full Moon. Billy started to run down the hill towards the town.

-o-O-o-

He heard the townspeople long before he saw them. They were chanting a song and dancing around a flickering bonfire. Billy joined them, adding his voice to the loud, driving beat,

"Alohay! Alohay! Yahboombatoom!

All hail Selthynia, in her golden room!

The Moon Goddess wise,

The Moon Goddess strong,

We all will be punished,

If one does it wrong!

Loopahya! Loopahya!

Evil reigns supreme,

Toombahya! Toombahya!

A nightmare to a dream!

The townsfolk broke off with a witch's cackling laugh, and then started laughing for real. Blaine collapsed on the ground with tears streaming down his face. This was another thing which had always been the same: every night of the full moon, the inhabitants of the rural settlement had danced around a bonfire and pretended to be the evil worshippers of a long-forgotten moon goddess.

Anyone who came to the village for the first time would probably think that the villagers were mad. But they weren't; it was simply a game that they played, like the many others that were held after a feast in honor of noble Selthynia, wife of the Sun and mother of the Stars. A prize was given to the person who was the most convincing evil worshipper, and others to the winners of the games.

It was two o'clock in the morning by the time Blaine stumbled back to the little bark hut that he shared with his father and fell onto the moth-eaten straw mattress that was his bed. He had forgotten all about the crystal stream and the magical harp.

When Blaine woke up however, he remembered. He got dressed quickly and grabbed some stale bread and cheese. Then he set off up Jacob's Hill, stuffing his impromptu breakfast into his mouth as he went. Blaine followed the twisting path up to the top of the hill, and then down the other side into the valley. He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the…

...dusty bank of the old, dried-out creek. Blaine looked around disbelievingly. He was _sure_ that the harp had been there the night before. He was_ sure_ that he had heard the heart-wrenching music. He was _sure_ that he had seen the drooping green ferns, garnished with the diamond droplets that they had picked up from the sparkling stream.

Blaine gazed around on last time, as if the heavenly paradise might appear once again before his eyes. Then, with a sigh, he turned in the direction the village that he knew was shimmering in the heat haze just over the hill, and started heading towards it.

A month passed and summer came to an end. The days began to grow shorter and colder and the wind moaned like a living creature around the hills. Blaine had dismissed the harp as a fanciful dream, and the sweet memory of it had begun to fade. That was before he saw it again for the second time.

-o-O-o-

Blaine was running up and over the hill again. But this time Thunder was bounding at his side. The dog's tongue was hanging out and his mouth was stretched into a wide sort of grin. Blaine could hear other sets of feet pounding on the rough trail behind him. He was the only one that they hadn't caught yet, and he knew they never would. He was much too fast.

Blaine could see sunlight up ahead and he ran faster. He reached it and slowed to a walk. The path ended and he found himself on a mossy green bank. He stopped and stared in wonder. Before him was a scene from his most beautiful dreams: a silver stream, cascading over perfectly formed stones… Trees with emerald-green leaves, reaching for the sky… The delicate fronds of ferns, trailing in the sparkling clear water… But his eyes were drawn to one thing only, a harp, covered in smooth silver leaf with shining golden strings…

_'So it's true,'_ he thought, _'it's really true. It wasn't just an incredible dream.' _Blaine walked slowly towards the harp and studied it carefully once he reached it. Up close, he could see that it was engraved with a twisting design of vines and fruit. Blaine leaned closer. He could see strange symbols running around the edge of it.

As if it could sense him looking at it, the harp's strings started to ripple and the divine music began again. Again Blaine felt the urge to reach out a hand and touch it, but he held back. He imagined what kind of player the harp would have. Skin as white as snow, silver hair and silver eyes. He would be wearing a filigree circlet of pure gold and his clothes would look as if they had been spun by spiders out of silver cobwebs just for him.

He was so clear in his mind that Blaine could picture him sitting by the harp, gently stroking the finely wrought strings. He blinked and looked again. The figure in his mind _was _sitting by the harp and his elegant fingers _were _stroking the finely wrought strings. Except the player's hair was a gorgeous brown, and his eyes an enchanting mixture of blue, green and grey. Blaine didn't mind, however. These small changes made the boy seem much more _real_, and certainly much more attractive.

But Blaine still rubbed his eyes and stared. This could not be happening. Things in your imagination did_ not_ become real just because you _thought_ about them. Then the mystical musician started to sing and Blaine knew that his eyes were not deceiving him, and that he _must_ be real. Blaine sat down to watch him. He stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon, just watching him. He was so beautiful and was playing such divine music that Blaine found he could not take his eyes off him. Finally the player stopped. He turned his head and stared right at Blaine.

"You like my playing, yes?" he inquired gently, his voice like a mountain stream, clear and flowing, with a slight musical lilt to it. Blaine could only nod in reply.

"You are wondering why you did not see me before?" Blaine nodded again.

"That is easy. You did not see me because I did not wish to be seen." Blaine finally found his voice,

"But I came up here the day after the Night of the Full Moon and saw only the old, dried-up creek," he told the strange. boy, "why was that so?"

"Have you not guessed, Blaine?" the player asked, "not only do you have to have your dog with you when you come up here, you also have to come up here on the day of the Night of the Full Moon." Blaine studied him carefully,

"Who _are_ you?" he asked.

"I am a messenger of the noble Selthynia, wife of the Sun and mother of the Stars. My name is Kurt," was the calm reply, "I sent you your dog six months ago, to guide you to this place." Blaine gaped at Kurt,

"Selthynia is real!" he gasped, "the evil moon goddess really lives?" Kurt smiled at him,

"Yes, but she is not really evil. That bit is made up. She is really very kind; it is her husband who is evil." Blaine stared at him,

"The Sun is evil?"

"Yes, he gobbles his children up every day and spits them out at night so they can torment poor Selthynia. Did I forget to mention that he also gobbles her up in the daytime as well?"

"Poor Selthynia, why does he do that?" Blaine wondered.

"Because he is jealous that your little village worships her, and not him," Kurt answered.

"Oh," Blaine sighed.

"You had better go now, it sounds as if your friends have begun the celebrations," Kurt suggested gently.

"Oh," Blaine said again, "thank you." He smiled hesitantly at Kurt and whistled for Thunder. Then he started to walk slowly up the side of Jacob's Hill.

When Blaine arrived back at the small township, just in time for the feast, his friends greeted him and asked where he had gone. They told him that one minute they could see him running up the hill, the next he had he had disappeared. They said that they had followed him to the old, dried-up creek and then looked for him everywhere. They hadn't been able to find him.

-o-O-o-

_**Nine months later...**_

It started with a shard of glass, carelessly dropped by some disrespectful traveller. The day was hot so the fire it did not take long to catch. There was also a slight breeze, which didn't help matters in the slightest. Blaine could see the bushfire from where he was playing, in the small main street of the town. His first thoughts turned to the harp, but then he remembered that it was not the day of the Night of the Full Moon. It was one day before. He still worried, however, for he was not so sure that the harp and the crystal stream weren't there all the time, that on other days they were just not visible.

The alarm was shortly raised and everyone in the town grabbed a bucket and started up Jacob's Hill, for it was there that the bushfire was hungrily devouring everything in its path. They fought grimly for most of the day, but in the end had to concede defeat. Just as they were giving up though, they heard the blades of choppers spinning overhead. The helicopters emptied huge buckets of water over the bushfire - and the townspeople. But the townspeople did not care; getting a little bit wet was a low price to pay for the safety of their town. And besides, it washed the sweat, dust and soot from their exhausted bodies. Then it was all over. They staggered back to the town and collapsed onto their beds.

-o-O-o-

When he woke, Blaine's first thought was for the harp. He got up straight out of bed and started up the hill. Not alone of course, Thunder was trotting along beside him; _nothing _was going to stop him going on this early-morning walk.

Blaine reached the gap in the trees and stopped, his heart in his mouth. He was terrified of what he would see. Would the harp have disappeared, the perfect paradise along with it? He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stepped through the gap in the trees. He slowly cracked his eyes open. The heavenly paradise was still there, but all that remained of the harp was a bright puddle of molten silver. The harp hadn't been covered in silver leaf; it had been _made_ of silver. Blaine forced himself to look closer. If he peered carefully at it, he could also see a trace of gold mixed in with the silver. All that remained of the glimmering golden strings.

Feeling detached from himself he wondered if Kurt had perished along with the harp. He turned to go, tears running down his cheeks. But a voice stopped him. The voice was like a mountain stream, clear and flowing with a slight musical lilt to it. Kurt.

"Look behind you," he said softly. Blaine looked. The Harp was forming again from the pool of silver and gold. It was just the same as it had been before. It was perfect.

"Truly good things never really die," Kurt told him gently, "remember that."

-o-O-o-

Blaine returned month after month, year after year. When Thunder died, Kurt sent him another dog. Then another. Then another. He made the journey up Jacob's Hill every day of the Night of the Full Moon. Blaine did this faithfully until he died, peacefully, of old age, in his bed.

Blaine never told anyone else about the harp. It was much too special to be turned into a tourist attraction by some greedy person. But maybe one day, the noble Selthynia, wife of the evil Sun and mother of the spoilt Stars, will see fit to show another human the harp. For the harp will never really die, as is true with all truly good things.

**What did you think? Please let me know, I'd love some feedback! :)**


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